


The Gift of a Special Night

by CrzA



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira Stays AU, Christmas Eve, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, Gift Giving, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28296378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrzA/pseuds/CrzA
Summary: After the stressful endeavour that last Christmas had been for everyone involved, Akira wants to make it up to Yusuke by spending this year's on a romantic date.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	The Gift of a Special Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TellMeYellMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeYellMe/gifts).



> HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO TELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I was your secret santa ÒwÓ
> 
> Have my first spicy Shukita, just for you :D

“Yusuke.” Akira’s voice pulls him out of his careful observation of the hastily arranged fruit bowl atop the table, though he doesn’t quite take his eyes completely off it, merely humming his acknowledgment as he continues to put the lines to the paper with methodical flicks of his wrist. “Would you like to go on a date with me next week?”

At that, he finally stills his hand, blinking a few times before turning to where his partner sits atop his dorm bed, back to the wall and a book laid across his lap. Akira isn’t even looking his way, continuing to flip through the pages nonchalantly, though Yusuke can see through the cool front he is attempting to put up, the faint flush dusted over his cheeks rather delicate and barely even there, but certainly enough for his keen eye to notice. His gaze flickers towards him for a split second, as if to confirm he had actually heard the question, invitation really, or if he was still so immersed in his practice that he had missed it altogether.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, or if you’re busy.” Akira quickly adds, waving a dismissive hand that Yusuke has to squint at to make sure it isn’t trembling. “I was just thinking since…” He trails off with a small shrug, his lower lip sinking as he bites into it for a moment of weakness. He flips another page on his book, sighing. “Never mind, don’t worry about it.”

“Next week?” Yusuke asks despite Akira’s obvious attempt to brush it off, counting the days in his mind and glancing at the calendar hanging on his wall. “The twenty-fourth?”

Akira seems to flinch slightly at the date, but he takes a beat to breathe in, then out, flipping yet another page—Yusuke notes that he is returning to the previous one this time. “If that works for you.”

“Last year that time was hectic for all of us wasn’t it?” Yusuke acknowledges vaguely, adjusting his grip on his pencil and adding a few more strokes to his still-life drawing.

“I guess.” Clearing his throat quietly, Akira moves a hand up to slide his glasses further up his nose, repositioning them slightly before focusing on the book once more (or pretending to). “Again, you don’t have to. It’s probably too cold to go out anywhere anyway. Besides, it’s not like we need to do stuff like that…”

“Akira.” Yusuke calls, looking up from his drawing as his partner mirrors his action with his own pastime, their eyes meeting for a small eternity of silence.

The atmosphere is not particularly heavy, but Yusuke can feel an aura of anxiety coming from Akira that is not entirely unfamiliar. Despite how he presents himself to others, once one gets close to him, it is rather hard to miss the little tells, the subtle twitches in his expression and the way he measures his words carefully befitting each situation that arises. His Joker attitude, while unequivocally true to his character, lacked a lot of the restraints he often puts upon himself. On his day to day, Akira appears to focus a lot more on his interactions, tailoring his personality to suit the tastes of whoever he finds himself with.

With Yusuke, once their relationship developed, he became acutely aware of the ways the cogs turn in his brain. He tends to be freer now, after much work on his part, much help on Yusuke’s—and gods only know how much he himself had to work through as well—, but sometimes, mostly when he is uncertain of how his words might be perceived, he still falls into this habit of putting up an act, hiding behind a particular mask. Perhaps it is merely an attempt to protect himself, create an artificial distance so the blow isn’t nearly as impactful should the scene not play out the way he had imagined it.

“Speak clearly, please.” Yusuke finally completes, and Akira swallows, his throat bobbing with the gesture.

The red of his cheeks grows a shade deeper and he scratches at the left one, letting out a trembling breath.

“I want to… I want to try to do something r-romantic. I know you don’t care about that kind of stuff, and I usually don’t either, I’m simply happy to be with you… But I…” He shrugs one more time, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m starting to wonder if you will grow bored of me. Variety is important in the life of an artist, isn’t it?”

“Well,” Yusuke starts, putting his sketchbook aside altogether as he crosses his legs once he faces Akira, “for one, variety is not something I lack when I am with you.”

“It’s not like we do a lot more than sit together while you draw or paint and I’m just… there.”

“Does this displease you?”

“Of course not.” Akira frowns, placing a bookmark in the centre of his book to assure he doesn’t lose his place. “I just said I’m happy to just be with you.”

“The same is true for me. Oftentimes, I find myself grateful that we spend most of our time in situations where I can easily dedicate some of it to my art, considering you offer me a great deal of inspiration—and variety.” He adds the last part with a nod, crossing his arms over his chest as well. “Your expressions are always captivating, and they never cease to catch my creative eye. Something as simple as the furrow of your brow when any subject of your studies becomes particularly challenging has served as the base for a fair few of my paintings over the past year.”

“That so?” Akira gasps, leaning forward as his eyes widen every so slightly, the part of his lips sparking an image of a bottomless pit of temptation in his mind’s eye. The fruit bowl will have to wait once he returns to his sketching, it seems, fittingly enough.

“Yes. But even if I could spend an entire day and more listing the ways in which your presence fuels my creativity, I believe we are straying from the original point of this conversation.”

“R-right, sorry.” His blush flaring once more, Akira returns to his previous position. “So, being with me… it isn’t dull?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“That’s good.” Akira breathes out in relief, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his composure before looking into his own once again. “But…”

“But?”

“I still want to.” Yusuke hums inquisitively, tilting his head. “Do something romantic.” Akira whispers, lowering his gaze to his hands and twiddling his thumbs. “I know that we’re us, and we’re not like most… And maybe this would be the thing that would actually bore you because of it… But I think I want to do some things most couples do. And most couples spend Christmas Eve together, right?”

“That is perfectly fine.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“Why would I? Is it not what you want to do?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to inconvenience you, or bother you with silly things you don’t have reason to make time for.”

“If it is something you want, I am happy to make time for it. You always made so much time for me, back when we first met, it would only be fair.” Akira’s features twist unpleasantly at the sound of that, and Yusuke catches himself, coughing into his hand once. “I did not mean that my acceptance is merely a consequence of your generosity back then. It just feels fitting and rather convenient—” Akira’s expression darkens further, and Yusuke hastens to continue, a little more urgent than intended, “—that something I would enjoy would also align with my desire to make it up to you for all that you’ve done up until now!”

Lips pulled to a taut line, Akira raises an eyebrow at Yusuke, and it’s his turn to feel blood rising up to the tips of his ears as his partner stares at him sceptically. Curse his constant social ineptitude. For someone who just asked Akira to speak clearly, he certainly struggles to get his own point across most of the time.

“So, you’d like to do it? To go on a date with me on Christmas Eve?” His partner eventually speaks, and Yusuke nods.

“Yes, that is indeed what I meant.”

“Okay.” Akira exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before settling back into a comfortable position and opening his book anew. “I will do my best to make it enjoyable.”

The corners of Yusuke’s lips twitch into a small smile as he, too, picks up his sketchbook, turning to a blank page and keeping Akira’s elegant profile in his line of sight as he starts committing the lines to the eternity of art.

The days that follow pass in a bit of a strange blur that is somehow frighteningly quick and tortuously slow. Though he can hardly wait to see what his partner has in store for their date, intrigued and excited to the point that it seems like the day is always too far out of reach, the daunting realisation that he should probably find Akira an adequate gift makes him feel a little too pressed for time with a little less than a week to figure it out. It is rather hard, he comes to find, to conciliate the desired perfection with an unbearable lack of funds that Yusuke is woefully unequipped to deal with. Most of the time, Akira is the one shouldering any expenses that may arise in their time together, and he cannot simply request his aid in this matter.

It leaves him with only one logical option: making something himself. But, as it turns out, that raises a whole new slew of problems. How does one create something worthy of their very own muse?

Yusuke ponders for a while, plagued by countless possibilities that do not meet his exceedingly high expectations, and before he realises, one day has turned to two, and then to three, and he is still sitting empty-handed with nothing more than a few tossed sketches. It is as he sifts through failed attempts that he comes to understand Akira’s feelings of insecurity, of failing to live up to a standard that is not actually there, and it gives him pause.

Just as Yusuke demands nothing from his partner, Akira is very much the same. Everything they do for one another is born out of their own desire to act for the other’s sake, for their happiness in whatever form it may come. As much as it pains his inner perfectionist, Yusuke concludes as he stares around his messy studio, that he does not need anything overtly elaborate, that one might hang on a gallery for the entire world to see and judge. He needs only convey the feelings that drive his hand across the canvas, the ones he means for Akira and Akira alone to see.

It becomes easier after that, but there is still only enough time and art such as this cannot be rushed, so on a day when he should perhaps be getting ready for whatever plans his partner has for them both, Yusuke is still adding the last few strokes, blending the last few details. As he stares at the ever-ticking clock above his studio’s door, Yusuke knows that it will not dry in time, even as he lays down his easel once and for all and stands from his seat, shuffling towards the bathroom to rub the flaking paint off his skin before he needs to leave, should he want to not make Akira wait.

The water in his hair drips down to his bare shoulders as he stares at the painting for one last time, rolling down his back and making him shiver. It might not be some of his best work, technically speaking, but he thinks Akira will enjoy it, as embarrassing as it may be. To pour one’s heart into a work in such an obvious way is always a somewhat nerve-wracking endeavour, and he can only hope that Akira will find it touching rather than tacky.

With no more time to waste, Yusuke takes his phone from where he had left it that morning, wanting nothing to distract him as he gave his all to at least finish his work, even if Akira would have to wait a little longer before he could deliver it to him. A photo will have to suffice for now.

Yet as he moves to press the capture button, a knock on the studio’s door stops him, still damp head snapping towards the source. For a heartbeat, he considers ignoring it entirely, not really knowing who might be at the door at a time like this to begin with, but then a familiar voice speaks from the other side.

“Open up, Yusuke. I know you’re in there.” Akira calls, and Yusuke stares from the door to the painting and down to his still bare chest, blinking stupidly. “Hello?”

“Ah, yes, just a moment!”

Yusuke hastily dries his hair with a towel, picking up the sweater he meant to wear and pulling it over his head before rushing to the door and swinging it open. Akira is standing there with his back to him, swinging on the balls of his feet as he stares up at the clouded sky, craning his neck to look at him shortly after with a small smile dancing on his lips. Despite the scarf around his neck and the fluffy beanie pulled over his wild curls, his cheeks are still sunset pink from the harsh cold biting against them, which somehow makes him look even more beautiful than usual.

“Hey.”

“I thought I was supposed to meet you at Leblanc. And there is still some time left until the hour we agreed to.” Yusuke says instead of greeting him, a little shell-shocked, and Akira shrugs his shoulders as he steps inside, rubbing his gloved hands together to generate some heat.

“I finished what I had to do there earlier than expected and since I had to go buy some other things, I thought I would pick you up and we could go together.” He explains, blowing his warm breath on his hands once he removes the gloves and shoves them in his thick coat’s pockets. “Plus, I couldn’t wait to see you.”

Yusuke hums, his face warming slightly at the fond smirk Akira couples with that last statement, especially when he steps a little closer and reaches for his head, running his fingers through his hair softly. His eyelids flutter closed at the sensation, leaning down just enough to touch their foreheads together as Akira chuckles lowly.

“Did you just shower?”

“I was covered in paint.”

“Of course you were.” Akira shakes his head in mock exasperation, angling his head to place a short peck over Yusuke’s lips. “Anything I can see?” The raise of his eyebrow is almost knowing, and Yusuke can’t help the flare of embarrassment that sparks within him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly under the scrutiny of Akira’s gaze.

“Actually, it’s not so bad that you came here. I only just finished, so I wouldn’t be able to bring it to you today.”

“Oh?”

Rather than clarify, Yusuke takes one of Akira’s hands, casually noting how cold it is and holding it just a little tighter in a useless attempt to warm it somewhat. As if instinctively seeking some form of heat, Akira leans into Yusuke’s side, holding his arm in return while he leads him to the drying painting. Yusuke averts his eyes to a corner of the room as he rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly, swallowing nervously.

“It is rather abstract but—”

“I can see it.” Akira interrupts, his voice quiet but dripping with a joy that fills Yusuke’s heart until it is fit to burst. “Your love for me, right?”

“That is what I was attempting, yes…”

“It’s a little chaotic.”

“W-well—”

“But I like it. I love it. And I love you.” With a squeeze of Yusuke’s hand, Akira noses at his shoulder, laughing quietly. “Thank you. I can’t wait to hang it in my room.”

“That makes me happy… And relieved. I worked tirelessly to get it done by today, even if I couldn’t yet physically give it to you.”

“You didn’t have to do this, though. You know that you didn’t have to give me anything, right?”

“Yes, but I wanted to.”

“Okay. Thank you again.” Akira stands on the tips of his toes to kiss him on the cheek before dragging him to the bathroom. “Now let’s get your hair dry. You’re not going out like this unless you want to catch a nasty cold.”

Akira makes sure to bundle him up nicely, the outside wind harsh and unforgiving as it snakes through the gaps in the layers of clothing once they finally step into the streets. They huddle close together, sharing as much warmth as they can manage, Yusuke’s gaze drifting from one couple to another in similar positions as they make their way through a market. Akira picks vegetables from various stands, sparing no expense as he seems to reach for the ones that look to be the highest quality every time.

From the selection, Yusuke can already imagine what Akira plans to do, and though he feeds him often, it never fails to make his mouth water at the thought every single time. Whether it is just his imagination or not, Yusuke isn’t entirely sure, but he could swear that each time he eats Akira’s cooking, it tastes better than the last. As they say, practice makes perfect, but Yusuke honestly believes that his partner works extra hard with each dish, improving this or that, changing small things that make it into a completely different experience with every new bite.

Looking at the determination shining in his eyes, Yusuke can only imagine how much Akira wants to make this his best meal yet. There is not a shadow of a doubt in Yusuke’s mind that he will most certainly succeed. Granted, he is not hard to please, and he may be more than a little biased in his opinion of anything involving Akira and his efforts, but he would like to believe himself honest if nothing else.

By the time Akira is satisfied with his selection, the temperature seems to keep getting lower still, their breaths puffing into small clouds as they slip past their lips and their faces growing number the longer they linger on the streets. Though, just as Akira is about to duck into the relative safety of the subway station to lead their way to Leblanc, Yusuke feels something on the tip of his nose, scrunching it slightly as he blinks up at the sky and tugs at his partner’s hand to stop him.

Akira twists on his heel with an inquisitive hum, blinking at Yusuke and opening his mouth to say something. No words seem to make it out of it however, mesmerised by the flakes of fluffy snow suddenly raining down on them.

It’s still too soft a flurry to really stick, the puffs of white disappearing the moment they reach whatever obstacle cuts off their perpetual descent, but Yusuke can’t help but take a few seconds to admire the image before him. Akira’s eyes shine in the dimming daylight as he stares up at the falling snow, a smile filled with an almost childlike wonder stretching across his drying lips, a few melted snowflakes sticking to the tips of his hair like morning dew to blades of grass.

“White Christmas, huh?” Akira breathes, his fingers twitching around Yusuke’s hand.

“Seems that way.”

“Beautiful…”

At the sight of Akira’s red-stained cheeks as he utters the word, all the edges of his features softened in the most devastatingly enticing way, the thought that pops into Yusuke’s mind slides right off his tongue without his express permission. “You are.”

“Hmm?”

“We should go before it starts falling down harder.” Yusuke ends up saying, Akira’s amused expression making him feel a little self-conscious at the—albeit not entirely intentional—unbearably cheesy exchange.

Thankfully, Akira does not really acknowledge it beyond the small grin that continues to vex Yusuke without mercy, and their ride to Yongen-Jaya is quiet and uneventful, his partner’s head resting on his shoulder as he hugs the bags to his chest and closes his eyes, trusting him to call him when they arrive. He looks so peaceful that Yusuke almost feels like a criminal disturbing him when they have to leave the train, shaking him as gently as he can manage and helping him stand even though he knows he does not quite need it.

“Boss closed early today,” Akira informs as he shoves the key into the door’s lock, throwing Yusuke a pointed glance before continuing, “and Morgana is with Futaba as well.”

“I see.” Yusuke murmurs simply, catching the hidden meaning in his words as they step into the empty café and close the door behind them.

It’s as warm and cosy as ever, even when empty and dark, the lingering scent of roasted beans and spices invading his lungs and enveloping like the embrace of a loving friend. Yusuke takes a second to breathe it in, as he usually does, the atmosphere always soothing him and making him feel completely at ease, perhaps due to its strong connection to Akira and the comfort he brings to his soul.

Only a small space heater sits turned on near the entrance to the kitchen until Akira flips on the lights, shedding his coat and scarf to reveal a black turtleneck sweater that looks so unbelievably soft, Yusuke has a hard time resisting the urge to run to his partner’s side just to feel it. Or maybe that’s just an excuse to touch him underneath the thicker layers that were between them before. Whichever the reason, Yusuke focuses instead on ridding himself of his own coat and gloves, folding them over one of the booth’s seats next to Akira’s and sitting at the counter.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing.” Akira says promptly, not even looking his way as he simply continues to take the ingredients out of the bags and places them on the counter. “Just sit back and relax while I cook our dinner.”

“That seems a bit unfair.”

“Hmm, weren’t you up late these days to finish my gift?”

Yusuke straightens slightly at that, mouth agape. “How did you…”

“I know you, Yusuke. You get really invested when you are passionate about something. I bet you didn’t even eat properly.” Right then, he does look Yusuke’s way, offering him a cheeky smirk that he has a hard time facing, diverting his gaze to the Sayuri still hanging in her rightful place at the café’s entrance. “Just rest, okay? I like having my space while I’m cooking anyway.”

Not entirely knowing how to respond, Yusuke merely hums his agreement, propping his chin up on one hand and closing his eyes to let the atmosphere sink into him. The _clinks_ and _clanks_ of metal on metal and chopping of vegetables colour the background as Akira prepares the food, a familiar symphony that Yusuke always finds himself wishing he could hear everyday whenever he has the pleasure to enjoy it. Who knows, one day, he might really be able to have this as part of his routine.

If ever he gets to spend his evenings watching Akira lose himself in his recipes, end his nights holding him close and start his days looking into his eyes, Yusuke will surely be a happy man. Happier even than he is now, knowing himself beyond lucky that he gets this much at all.

Slowly but surely, the sounds give way to stronger smells, the aromas blending together and lifting each other up until they make something entirely their own.

Curiously, when this past week time had been a strange thing all on its own, right now, it almost feels as if it has stopped, as he sits with his eyes shut in a world of relative darkness where his mind wanders and the only thing to prove that things are not at a complete standstill is Akira’s undeniable presence. Even without watching him, Yusuke can see him move, the confidence in every flick of his wrist, every slice of the knife. Sometimes he will hum a tune without any particular melody, and his voice paints the loveliest splashes of colour in the pitch-black background of Yusuke’s quiet thoughts.

As he listens to the food boiling in the pots, sucks in the spicy scents with each steady breath, he knows that time is indeed passing, even if it feels like it was just a second ago that he let his lids droop closed when everything ceases and Akira’s lips brush against the shell of his ear, whispering…

“Dinner is ready.”

Yusuke does not open his eyes right away, instead turning his head towards Akira, mouth parted ever so slightly in an invitation that his partner does not hesitate to accept, tongue slipping in and brushing against his own languidly so that he can taste a fraction of the distinct flavours of what is to come. Akira never deems a recipe complete before testing it himself. In a sense, his cooking is an art in and of itself, and Yusuke might argue it is better than his own—after all, they can eat it.

Edible art… An interesting concept. He should explore it, at some point.

Brushing the thought aside, he finally looks into Akira’s dark eyes, taking in their satisfied glint as he backs away and rounds the counter back into the kitchen setting the food on two plates and bringing them over to one of the booths. Yusuke blinks in surprise at the tall red and gold candles lining the table, matching the cloth spread over it, wondering how Akira had set it all up without him noticing while the food cooked.

Well, considering his past feats, it is by far not the most shocking thing if he thinks about it logically. A Phantom Thief of Hearts had to be equipped with certain skills, after all.

Wordlessly, Akira unties the apron from around his waist and takes it off, folding it and setting it beside Yusuke before taking his hands and brushing his knuckles with the pads of his thumbs, still somewhat rough from all the tinkering he continues to do every once in a while. Just because they no longer venture into the metaverse, does not mean some of these skills are no longer useful, he supposes.

Yusuke lets himself be led to the booth, sitting across from Akira and taking in the food before him. Even though curry is Akira’s staple food, no doubt due to Sojiro’s influence, Yusuke can tell this is different from usual. If anyone asked him, perhaps he would not be able to pinpoint how or why, but it is a gut feeling that is only confirmed by the eager expression on his partner’s face, awaiting his reaction with bated breath.

Feeling his every move being watched, scrutinised, Yusuke gives his thanks for the meal and picks up the spoon next to his plate, taking a mouthful to his lips. The spice coats his tongue nicely, not so overwhelming that he cannot appreciate all the other flavours trapped within the sauce Akira so lovingly prepared, combining perfectly with the selection of vegetables and making the meat so much juicier than it would have been otherwise. The rice is cooked to perfection along with everything else, falling in his stomach nicely along with everything else, and it all leaves him craving more with each bite.

Just one look at his face and it would be obvious what he thinks, but Yusuke still takes a moment to pause, stare deep into Akira’s eyes, and smile tenderly. “This is definitely your best one yet.”

“Right?” Akira grins in return, joyful wrinkles sprouting from the corners of his eyes. “I worked hard.”

“It is absolutely wonderful. A masterpiece.” Yusuke reinforces, going right back to savouring the meal as Akira starts to do the same.

Their meal is spent in relative silence, mostly because they are both too busy enjoying it to actually talk around it. Their feet touching underneath the table is all the communication they really need throughout it and their hands join over it once they finish, plates set aside after seconds (and thirds on Yusuke’s account). It’s the usual aura of their relationship, calm and tranquil, but no less intense, but there is something else in the air as well.

Romance, Yusuke would guess, given how that had been Akira’s intention from the start. Though, if he is completely honest, he is not even sure what that even means. The way Akira looks at him with this quiet adoration is nothing new, neither is the feeling of his hands around his own, but there is a certain weight in the atmosphere that stems from an anticipation that there is more to come. At least, he thinks there will be, from the way Akira’s eyes occasionally flicker to the stairs that lead to his room. There is a soft light coming from atop them, feeding Yusuke’s curiosity, but their current position is comfortable too, so he makes no move to ask what it’s about, waiting for Akira to feel like they should keep going at his own pace.

After a while of playing with his fingers, Akira lets out a small sigh, sliding his hands away from his hold and taking the dirty dishes to the sink before Yusuke offers to take care of them himself. It’s the least he could do, he thinks, when Akira did everything to prepare the meal for them, and thankfully, his partner does not argue against it, blowing out the candles and cleaning up everything else while he makes quick work of the plates and spoons.

“What now?” Yusuke asks once he sets the last of the dishes on the drying rack, cleaning his hands on a rag and turning to a seemingly excited Akira.

“What now indeed.” He offers cheekily, an index pressed to his chin in mock thought before he points towards the stairs with his head. “I have a gift for you too. Come with me.”

“So, the date itself isn’t the gift already?”

“Hmm, well, it could have been, but… Oh.” He stops dead in his tracks all of a sudden and Yusuke halts before him, nearly walking right into his back. “Would you look at that?” Akira turns to Yusuke and blinks at something above their heads, urging him to follow his line of sight.

“Ah.” He says intelligently, staring at the mistletoe hung over the threshold with an amused breath. “What is this for, exactly?”

“You’re supposed to kiss under it.” Akira says matter-of-factly, tapping at his own lips.

“You don’t need tricks for me to kiss you.”

“I know. But it’s fun.” He smiles brilliantly, and Yusuke feels his heart skip a beat, pulling Akira into his arms and diving for that addictive mouth of his.

The flavours of their meal still linger, but Yusuke focuses on the muted flavour underneath it all instead, that sweet taste that is unique to Akira and never feels like enough no matter how many times he gets to relish it. They grab handfuls of each other’s hair, pulling each other closer and closer still, stealing the breath right from each other’s lungs and coming to the inevitable conclusion that they eventually have to part for oxygen after all, panting slightly as they break away from each other but don’t go very far.

It is easy to forget the entire world when they are here in their own little bubble, cut off from everything else in a rather literal sense but also sure that had they been surrounded by prying eyes, they would not have cared either way. Once, twice, so many times they lose count, they lose each other in this dance that only they can hear the music to, until their hearts are threatening to beat out of their chests and Yusuke feels that if he spends one second longer trapped by Akira’s lips, he may never escape. Not that he would mind.

But Akira eventually does push away, his face tinted in a myriad of luscious reds and his lips glimmering in the mysterious soft light that bathes them from above. Yusuke’s curiosity luckily wins out over the disappointment, however, and he does not fight it when Akira once again leads him by the hand up the stairs.

The room is pretty much the same as when Yusuke last visited but for one big difference: the small artificial tree tucked into the corner between the work desk and the foot of the bed, the dark green brightened by the little lights wrapped around it blinking slowly between the reds, blues and yellows. Drawn in by the intricate decorations, Yusuke shuffles past Akira, leaning closer to inspect the ornaments hanging from the various branches in haphazard intervals. Each and every one is completely unique, hand-crafted and hand-painted, representing little things in their relationship throughout the short years they have known each other.

Yusuke holds his breath as he reaches for a painted CD, recognising the imagery of the painting he submitted to that contest what feels like an eternity ago, the light of hope radiating from the centre and spreading to everything around it. Inhaling shakily, Yusuke turns to Akira, finding him shyly fixating on his feet, kicking up imaginary dirt as he pretends not to notice him looking.

“Akira…”

“Oh, that…” Akira shrugs noncommittally when he forces himself to acknowledge the ornament he is studying so closely. “It doesn’t even begin to do your painting justice, but it was one of the moments I ever felt closest to you, so I really wanted to include it…”

“I think you captured its essence perfectly.” Yusuke mutters, voice a little raw with emotion. “I did not know it meant as much to you as it did to me.”

“Why wouldn’t it? I couldn’t just brush it off when you said we were your hope. I think it’s when I started realising I was falling for you, actually…” He points to another ornament, painted to resemble a flower that Yusuke distinctly remembers cherishing until the day it inevitably wilted. “That’s the first gift I gave you as your boyfriend.” He points to the painting of a white circle with shaded spots, blushing a deep shade of red. “It was a full moon when we first kissed…”

“This is…”

“Silly?”

“Marvellous. And really romantic.” Yusuke corrects, pulling Akira into his arms and kissing him softly. “Was this my gift then? I love it.”

“Ah, no.” Akira shakes his head, sneaking out of his hold and reaching under his pillow. “This is.”

Carefully, he pulls a navy-blue velvet box out, chewing on his bottom lip as he sits on the edge of his bed and gestures for Yusuke to join him. Somehow, his cheeks manage to turn even more flushed, to the point that if Yusuke didn’t know any better, he may have thought he was coming down with a fever from being out in the cold for too long earlier. Taking in a deep, trembling breath, Akira holds the box’s lid with shaking hands, avoiding Yusuke’s gaze as he lifts it open to reveal a pair of thin silver bands nestled in a tiny plush white pillow.

“What are those?”

“Promise rings.” Akira swallows thickly, finally facing him once he takes one of the bands and turns it between his fingers. “I had them engraved.”

“This must have cost you a fortune.” Yusuke whispers, his eyes wide with shock.

“Don’t worry about that.” Akira scolds as he puffs up his cheeks in mild annoyance. “Here, give me your hand.” Knowing that Akira will get impatient if he doesn’t comply, Yusuke places his hand in his partner’s letting him slide the ring on without trouble. “It’s a bit cheesy, I guess, but yours says _The Joker’s Wildcard_ and mine _The Fox’s Hope_.”

“I love it.” Yusuke assures him, taking the other band from the box and mirroring Akira’s gesture.

With the rings in their rightful places, Yusuke brings their joined hands between them, admiring the way the silver glints with the blinking lights of the Christmas tree and promising himself that he will put this indescribable feeling in a painting sometime soon. And that one, rather than for Akira’s eyes only, will be an open confession to the entire world, for no one should live their life without knowing the sensation of being so consumed with joy and adoration that they can see nothing else.

A quiet chuckle shakes Akira’s shoulders as he takes in the view, letting out a sigh of relief before slumping onto Yusuke’s side, his wild curls tickling the sensitive skin of his neck as he nuzzles into him.

“I’m really glad you like them. I was so nervous…”

“I would have loved anything and everything if it came from you.”

“Well, even if that’s true, I still did my best.”

“And you most certainly managed something outstanding. You are truly amazing, Akira.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Letting out an amused breath, Yusuke raises his hand up to Akira’s face, brushing his knuckles over his still pink cheeks tenderly before carding his fingers through his unruly hair and pulling him close. The bridges of their noses rub together, breaths mingling between them as they slowly close the minute distance with their lips, falling into each other for the millionth time that evening, but still feeling like not nearly enough no matter how long it lasts each one.

Without even realising it, they fall onto the mattress together, Yusuke’s weight pinning Akira beneath him as they deepen their kiss just a little further. Akira is warm beneath him, arching his back into him in what seems to be a wordless plea to get closer, as close as physically possible, and Yusuke wants nothing more than to oblige, placing himself between his legs and pulling one of them over and around his waist.

A gasp hisses past his teeth when a hand sneaks past the hem of his shirt, feeling the skin of his back with gentle fingers. The cold of the silver ring sends a shiver crawling up Yusuke’s spine, a low noise rumbling in his chest and building in his throat as he dives back down for Akira’s smirking lips, nipping at them once and then again before kissing him anew, a little more desperate than before. His nails graze over Akira’s scalp and he responds in kind over his shoulders, hands climbing higher underneath his sweater before running down his side and around to his navel between them.

Yusuke falters, pulling apart with a questioning hum that Akira has no response to but for a dark look in his half-lidded eyes, biting down on his lower lip enticingly while he raises his hand to his chest now that he has more freedom of movement. He inhales sharply when Akira presses a thumb to his nipple in passing, his lids fluttering at the sensation as he lowers himself once more, the message loud and clear.

Tongue sliding into Akira’s mouth, Yusuke presses his hips to his partner’s, savouring the resulting moan as if it were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his entire life. As Akira’s hands continue roaming his body, feeling every inch of his ever-heating skin, Yusuke’s lips start doing some exploring of their own. Little by little, he deviates from his mouth to his jaw, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses up to his ear and pausing just short of reaching it when Akira grinds into him, drawing a wanton whimper right out of him unwarranted.

“Ah, _fuck_ , you sound good like that.” Akira shudders, his fingers twitching over his sides and pulling his hips down to repeat the movement and earn himself another little noise.

“You are going to be the death of me…” Yusuke groans, opening his mouth to lick at the shell of Akira’s ear before biting into it softly.

At least, he is not the only one coming undone from his partner’s calculated touches, Akira’s voice failing as he chokes on a whine of his own, squirming underneath Yusuke the more he teases his sensitive ear, a molten heat travelling down to his core the more of these wonderful reactions he manages to get. Though, of course Akira returns each one of his attacks tenfold, pressing each and every one of Yusuke’s buttons to get the most embarrassing sounds out of him, teasing him just as mercilessly until he is just about ready to start begging. Whether he would beg for him to stop or take things further, he is not quite sure, all manner of coherent thought long gone from his lust-addled mind as the flames of desire burn within him, threatening to consume him at any given moment.

But as calculatingly cruel Akira can be sometimes, when he truly wishes to drive Yusuke near the point of insanity, this time, he appears to be just as desperate, reaching down between them to unbutton their jeans and push them down just enough to remove the fabric separating them. Yusuke lets out a broken moan as soon as he feels Akira’s deft fingers sneak past the waistband of his boxers, giving him a tentative stroke that could have easily tipped him over the edge if he didn’t stop there.

“Akira…” Yusuke chokes, voice as strangled as he feels and muffled by the soft sweater when he buries his face in the crook of his partner’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Yusuke.” Akira smiles against the side of his head, kissing his hair tenderly and slowly moving his hand once more to a similar reaction from the first time. “Can we keep going?”

“Yes, please…” The words are about as wanton as he feels, punctuated by another low moan when Akira grinds up yet again, gripping them both and spreading the moisture from the tips down their length. “ _Akira_ …” He calls again, gruff and husky, completely breathless as he leans down to suck at the column of his partner’s throat once he pulls the sweater’s collar down.

Akira curves his body into him, throwing his head back to expose even more of his delightfully soft skin, letting him taste the slightly salty flavour sticking to it as he begins to sweat with the heat of their passion. Without thinking about the consequences, Yusuke sucks on that tender skin, nipping and licking until it is no longer pale when he pulls back to admire it, a flowering bruise left behind that he should probably feel remorseful for yet can only think looks exceedingly beautiful on him.

Though, it looks lonely like that, a lone splash of colour in an otherwise blank canvas, and as an artist, Yusuke feels it awfully offensive to leave it as such, incomplete. Reaching down to still Akira’s hand for a moment, he pulls the sweater over his head, baring his chest to the cold air of the room and admiring the new view for a few heartbeats as they catch their breaths.

He notices the glistening of Akira’s fingers and brings his hand to his lips, overcome with a need to taste them before they return to their movements. Below him, Akira’s interest becomes even more apparent, his hips buckling almost out of instinct as Yusuke runs his tongue over his palm, lapping at the pre-cum that had stuck to it and humming contentedly at the flavour before leading their hands down anew. Akira does not wait for permission before wrapping them both around them, leading them in steady strokes that draw even more stuttered moans out of Yusuke, his eyes closing as he leans down once more, wrapping his lips around his partner’s collarbone and sucking gently.

They may be hungry for one another, but their movements are not rushed, relishing in each and every sensation as it takes over all of their senses. Akira’s voice echoes deep in his chest as he calls Yusuke’s name whenever he leaves a new mark on him, the pleasure dripping from that one word making it almost sound like a prayer that he works so hard to answer, pouring his love on every inch of his body that he can reach.

The feelings that had been building up throughout the day until this point fill his heart so fully that he thinks it might burst, beating harder than he has ever felt it and becoming almost painful in the loveliest way. If it is for Akira, Yusuke would fall apart a million times over, knowing that he will never fail to put him back together with utmost love and care, likely leaving him better than he was before. And as the pressure builds deep inside him, the warmth of their bodies reaching a fever pitch that is bound to be dangerous, Yusuke can only keep grinding into their joint touch, chasing that feeling until it breaks him.

He meets Akira’s lips in a moment of blind pleasure, feeling himself nearing his end, when his partner suddenly stills their movements, a desperate whine tearing through him as they part, torn between getting the friction himself and giving in to whatever he has planned. Akira laughs breathlessly, his free hand brushing a few stray locks from Yusuke’s face to look deep into his eyes, licking his lips as they curve into a lopsided smirk.

“Don’t want it to be over so soon.” He offers as way of explanation, and Yusuke can only fall limp over him, groaning into his neck as his heartrate slows and the pressure coiled in his gut slowly dissipates, leaving him aching and yearning.

“You, Kurusu Akira, are a devil.”

“I suppose I can be a man of many masks.” Akira jests, and Yusuke huffs, propping himself up on his elbows and shooting him an unamused glare. “You could have just kept going yourself.”

“It is no fun without you.”

With another short chuckle, Akira kisses the pout right off his lips before pushing against his chest to force him into a sitting position against the headboard and straddling him. Unceremoniously taking off Yusuke’s shirt as well, Akira wraps his arms around his neck then dives for another kiss as he grinds down, the little friction the movement generates not nearly enough to satisfy either of them but no less pleasurable.

“You can pick the pace now.” Akira whispers against his lips, tugging at his hair to pull his head back and bite at his neck seductively.

Not needing to be told twice, Yusuke doesn’t hesitate to take them both in hand, stroking languidly at first and meticulously teasing Akira’s most sensitive spots to get the sweetest moans out of him as he keeps sucking on the ones at his own neck. Everything is slow and soft, contrasting greatly with the admittedly lewd display they are likely portraying. Given the circumstances, Yusuke might have thought it an inappropriate turn of events, a romantic evening devolving in the most lascivious of human desires. But the truth is, no matter what anyone might say romance is, Yusuke would never be convinced that loving each other in every way possible is anything short of it.

Because Yusuke loves Akira, all of him. He wants all of Akira, and his desires, his lust, his pleasure, they are all a part of him. So Yusuke takes it all greedily and lovingly, and he gives Akira everything he has in return.

“Yusuke…” Akira whimpers, his entire body trembling when Yusuke runs his thumb over his tip, spreading the moisture even further, gripping them tighter and stroking just a little faster. “More… please…”

Yusuke does not get to reply to his request, the breath stolen right from his lips as Akira kisses him once again, hands exploring his chest and sending stings of pleasure buzzing through him whenever his fingers pinch at his nipples. But even though he cannot say anything, the only sounds allowed out of his mouth the rumbling moans that Akira so expertly draws from him, he still complies, quickening his hand’s movements and trying his best not to come undone before it’s time.

After all, if he did, he is not sure he would be able to keep his eyes open throughout, and while the sensations are certainly delectable, there is nothing quite like the look on Akira’s face when he reaches that moment of pure bliss and euphoria. Yusuke would gladly give up all of his own pleasure just to witness Akira’s expression as he lets himself go, loses all semblance of composure and lets his vulnerability out for him and him alone.

So, he holds on, he focuses not on himself or his own pleasure burning deep within him as Akira’s teeth graze against his pulse point, moans vibrating against his sweat-slick skin, but on his calculated movements, the tell-tale twitches of his partner’s body, and the way his breaths become shorter. He is so close he can almost taste his own release, but he bites down hard on the inside of his own cheek, iron coating his tongue as he flicks his wrist faster and adds more pressure to his grip, gaze fixed on Akira’s twisting features and begging for him to let go.

“Akira, come for me…” Yusuke breathes, and Akira’s nails dig into his shoulders as he tenses and throws his head back at the mere sound of his words.

The little broken moan that tears through him as strings of white-hot pleasure coat their stomachs is like the loveliest music to Yusuke’s ears, but though it threatens to push him right over the edge then and there, he still fights it, continuing to stroke through Akira’s orgasm and watching him closely. The flush of his cheeks crawls all the way to the tips of his ears, his kiss-bruised lips parted and glistening in the room’s soft and shimmering lighting as he chokes on a pleasured scream. His breathless pants stutter as he convulses a few times, small little whines sliding off his lolling tongue as he rolls his hips through the tail-end of his climax, the added friction finally becoming too much for Yusuke as well.

He stills his movements entirely after a few heartbeats, his hand refusing to obey him as his mind turns blank for as long as his own release lasts, muscles pulled taut as the pressure snaps all of a sudden and leaves him unable to do much more than accept it. Akira melts into his arms shortly after, chest still heaving with the ragged breaths that tear through him, utterly spent, and Yusuke merely holds him as they both come down from their high, feeling each other’s heartbeats still fast and hard.

“Was this part of your plans for tonight?” Yusuke ends up asking after a while, breaking the relative silence that settles once they managed to level their breathing.

“Not exactly. But I can’t say I wasn’t somewhat hoping something like this might happen, and I’m definitely not complaining.”

Humming his acknowledgement, Yusuke reluctantly lets Akira go when he begins to push away, knowing they cannot remain like this the rest of the night, as much as he would love to just keep him safe and warm in his embrace forever. With a promise to return quickly sealed with a kiss, Akira haphazardly buttons his jeans to get back some form of modesty before disappearing to the bathroom. True to his word, he is back before Yusuke can truly miss him, still a little dazed from the cocktail of sensations from earlier, equipped with a warm wet towel and a change of clothes for them both. Luckily, Yusuke’s jeans didn’t suffer any unwanted damage, still good for him to wear on his way back home, but he takes the offered sweatpants and hoodie all the same—if only because he has no intention of going anywhere tonight.

Now that the heat has begun to leave their bodies, Akira doesn’t waste a moment to pull the bedcovers back and sneak beneath them, pulling Yusuke in with him and snuggling close to his side, a shiver running through him as he gets settled.

“How was that for a Christmas Eve date?”

“Considering I have no frame of reference, I am not sure how valid my answer is. But I would say it was nothing short of perfect.” Yusuke answers honestly, snaking his arm around Akira’s shoulders and pulling him flush against his chest. “And if I am lucky, it will continue right into my dreams.”

“That sounds nice…” Akira murmurs, his warm breath tickling Yusuke’s neck as he leans in to kiss him softly. “Please come into my dreams as well.”

Placing a kiss of his own atop Akira’s curls, Yusuke squeezes him tightly then relaxes into the mattress with a drawn-out exhale, the exhaustion from both their recent activities and the nearly sleepless nights that preceded them taking over him and promptly dragging him under the blanket of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading, and feel free to leave any comments you may have! You can find me on tumblr [@crzangel](https://crzangel.tumblr.com/) and on twitter [@CrzAngel96](https://twitter.com/CrzAngel96), and if you'd like the nsfw side blogs for those two, they are [@crzdemon](https://crzdemon.tumblr.com/) and [@CrzDemon](https://twitter.com/CrzDemon)!


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